An Orthodox Mountain
by PervyPanda
Summary: Ever wanted something simple? Straightforward? Too bad, you wont find it here, such is life. Those things are things of the past... But you may find someone willing to try for it anyway. Someone who wants to be upstanding and honest. Someone who want to be steadfast. Someone who wants to be a mountain to those who need it. A Naruto Self-Insert with a Gamer system. M for the future.
1. Chapter 1: First Loss

**AN**: I too went through a Naruto phase.

Fortunately I did not possess a FF account at that time, thus you were all spared whatever eldritch power-fantasy, wish-fulfilment, OP/OC shit I entertained back then.

Thank your lucky stars.

However I always thought either Konoha or Kumo would be where I started from. It was when I was browsing the Naruto section for old times sake and happened upon **The Iron Gamer of Kumo** by _nclose9_ that I felt the sudden urge.

The dreaded Naruto fic cometh.

Read peasants.

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I was in what felt like a small, warm box. Everything was cosy, everything was safe. All was right in the world if not for the fact that I just couldn't touch the walls.

No matter how I moved, where I floated, there was no sensation of boundaries. Even though all my instincts certified I was within _something_, I could not tell nor feel what.

It was scary, rightly so, but the fear was vague and distanced.

_Fear _itself was out of place… as was thought in general, higher functions weren't meant to be in use. This was a place of instincts and origins.

Looking back, I dimly realise this was why the thought of _opening my eyes_ never occurred to me. It went against instinct.

Needless to say, my understanding of the passing of time was nonexistent.

Still, after some time, an event transpired. It was the end.

I felt those foreign walls shudder, my world was trembling.

For the first time since that fuzzy beginning, my instincts allowed me fear.

And fear I did, finally a flood of terror previously suppressed so thoroughly burst free.

The following moments were even more indistinct than my earlier limbo. All I felt was the faint yet definite sense of being _detached _from something.

Then the floor fell away.

I dropped. Then I was pushed. Then I was pulled.

Then I screamed.

From my perspective I was greeted by a searingly painful wall of light and deafening, all-encompassing noise. A sensation overload primed at turning me insane.

Another perspective could be summed up in scant few lines:

_Date of birth: _23 July 1993  
_Place of Birth_: West-Mountain Hospital  
_Clan/Family/Institute Name_: Ohashi (Great, Bridge)  
_Given Name_: Yama (Mountain)  
_Weight_: 3.1kg  
_Height_: 52.2cm  
_Deemed_: Healthy

They went nicely on my new birth certificate.

* * *

I was four when I first tucked my unconscious father into bed.

It was a trial, given my four-year-old-ness and his adult-ness, but he was thin, unhealthful so, and I was strong, unnaturally so.

It was only slightly difficult dragging him to his futon, it would have been harder had we used western raised beds but the futon was ground level.

The most troublesome thing of the whole experience was the stench of alcohol. It was clogging thick, like my head was submerged in the stuff making my child eyes water and sting.

It also dried out my throat in record time.

Still, I managed to get him to his futon and straighten him out. It was a weird moment for me. I, an adult in a child's body, was acting like an adult for another adult. There was something detached about the entire episode. Like I was watching my actions in third-person.

From that moment on it became a semi-regular occurrence.

As did cooking. Only dinner at first, but soon I was making breakfast and lunch for the both of us. Clearing up the bottles and tidying the house also became my job at some point, and when I was five, even the regular shopping was delegated to me.

As my father wasted away, I gradually became the homemaker not only for myself but also for him.

Oddly enough, I did not mind.

Other than the monotonous practice of keeping us father and son alive, my only other form of regular human interaction came in the shapes of babysitters.

Mother was a Shinobi, as such, as her son I get slightly special treatment from the military she once served. Such was the way of Kumo.

We were militarised, harsh, strict and thus strong, but we were also caring to those our soldiers left behind. I was what mother left behind.

I had a semi-permanent D-rank babysitting mission posted and available to any Gennin above a certain age free of charge until I reach a certain age.

This was a benefit available for any child of those who gave their lives in the line of duty.

I believe It was also made to account for those like my father; those who die with their loved ones and only remain as a husk of their former selves. He is clearly incapable of caring for anyone, not even himself, but once, only once, I witnessed someone suggest I be taken into the care of a military orphanage…

That was most alive I'd ever seen my father. He was alive with pure, concentrated wrath. My three-year-old self watched as his face contorted demonically as he lashed out madly, taking an eye from the old matron who suggested the notion.

He then, amidst the shocked screams, grabbed me and ran back to the house.

Later, people in flak jackets knocked on the door and he was fined I think, but no other action was taken nor was I removed from his "guardianship".

It was clear to me that regardless of logic or thought, father would never let go of the lasting legacy of his wife while he still lived.

Thus: babysitters.

_Ninja _babysitters.

It was pretty cool.

They were the ones who taught me how to read and write, using cute shinobi themed story books at that. They had trouble getting me to speak more often I'm a naturally quiet, almost mute, child by nature.

It might even be genetic, my father and I communicate mostly through grunts and body language anyway… or it could be his depression and my reincarnation hang-ups talking.

My reserved disposition caused my sitters to be more animated, unconsciously covering for the both of us, and it wasn't like I was inattentive, I would nod or grunt when called for and listen to what they had to say, I just didn't speak when I didn't have to.

Still, we all got along fine for the most part.

I counted a total of seven different sitters over two years, but I had a semi-regular rotation of three; one older bespectacled boy in his late teens, and two "genki" girls around fifteen.

I made breakfast, I cleaned, I would sometimes watch my father work in the smithy.

My sitters would come, we would learn and play, I made lunch, I delivered lunch to my father, my sitter would leave sometime in the afternoon.

I would clean again, I would do homework, I would train, I would make dinner, I would deliver dinner, I would read and tend to the fire-pit, then I would sleep.

On the weekends one need only add "drag father to bed" before sleeping.

This summed up the past two years of my four and a half total.

It was five or so months prior my fifth birthday that I decided on the path that would eventually lead to my greater life.

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"Father." One of the benefits of not speaking often, is that when you do, people listen. Even depressed, slightly drunk single fathers. "I want to go to the Academy."

He looked at me with muddy eyes, heavy bags hung beneath those listless orbs. "No." He croaked, his voice firm and final despite everything.

He probably thought that was the end of the conversation, I had never argued with him before after all.

"Then what else am I to do?" I interrupted his delusion. "Civilian schooling is too expensive and most of my benefits will end soon. The majority of them only apply 'till I turn six."

We have a year and a bit, but already I'm having to cut back on our food.

"I don't need babysitters," though I'll be sad to see them go, "however food expenses and upkeep on the house would overwhelm us within six months."

We don't actually get a cut on plumbing or electricity, but the discounts on food are invaluable.

"By joining the academy I would be entering service." No matter how peripherally. "That would not only renew my benefits, but we can also apply for a legacy bursary."

A legacy bursary being a normal bursary with extras added, only available for children of shinobi, fallen or not.

"No." Still he croaked, staring intently at his bottle.

"Father, we are struggling as it is and with winter coming we will have to purchase firewood and unless that hole in the wall is fixed properly, one of us is going to get sick." I laid out the facts. Winter is harsh here in the mountains, we must plan adequately for it.

"No." I saw his jaw clench slightly. His stare gradually morphing into something harsher.

"Father, I'm not saying this out of selfishness. It is less that I _want _to go," though I do, "and more that I _need _to go. So I can continue buying the food we need."

His head whipped to me abruptly, a nostalgic intensity had stolen his eyes. His face rippled, seemingly on the verge of being possessed. He let out a hissing breath.

Had this been my past life, I think I would have stepped back here. Thin and malnourished as he was, he still towered over my small stature manifold. Not to mention the lack of body fat only served to accentuate those wry, almost grotesquely defined arm muscles.

But this was not my first life. For whatever reason, my fear was non-existent now. It was a distant and foreign thing, truthfully I had never once felt fear in my father's presence.

No matter his drunkenness or varying states of delirium, not even after the incident when he attacked that lady, I've never once feared him.

Maybe because he was my blood, or maybe because I was unafraid of being hurt, or maybe because I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

I did not fear him.

He shuddered, his shoulders shaking visibly as he glared down at me with a reddening face. One fist clenched by his side, the other tightening around the bottle.

We remain like that for some time. He blazing severely at down, me gazing mutely up. Father and son testing wills.

His shudders reached a climax, at that point not only his shoulders but his fists and torso were shaking almost violently.

They stopped suddenly.

With a deep, trembling breath his face also relaxed. He sagged heavily where he stood, as if the strings holding him up were cut.

Wordlessly, he shuffled away. Each step small yet lumbering, he swayed as he went. He looked incredibly old and weathered to me at that moment.

Just as he was about to slide shut the door to his room, I heard a quiet, mumbled broken "No."

There was nothing of the firmness or resolution from before.

In fact I'm not even sure if he said that to me or himself.

I let out a small sigh as the door slid shut. I rubbed my eyes tiredly. I too felt like sleeping y'know.

_That was exhausting._

* * *

The next morning father didn't wake up. Nor did he wake come noon. Nor did he wake come evening. Nor would he wake ever again.

"A heart failure, he most likely passed painlessly during his sleep." I only dimly recognised the rest of the person's words.

My eyes fixed on the tiled floor. It was too bright. It was cloyingly warm. This person talked too loudly. But I did not say a thing.

I felt numb.

**[**Title Gained: Orphan**]**

And so very, very tired.

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**AN**: This is partly inspired by the Iron Gamer so there will be similarities at the beginning, I hope nclose won't be too angry.

Go check his out and tell him I sent y'all would ya?

Also, this is just a breather between writing my Fire Emblem fic (Third Thumb) so don't expect quick updates… then again I said the same thing about Third Thumb so… eh.

I do hope you enjoyed, leave a review if it pleases.


	2. Chapter 2: Sovngarde Awaits

**AN**: Thanks to all who reviewed, as there were no pertinent questions to answer, this AN is more to let you know here is where I _would_ answer them had there been any.

Though I would only answer question I think other people might be wondering here. Other wise I would PM the reviewer.

That is all for today.

Now read Peasants.

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The land of Lighting boasts the most advanced use of electricity of all nations, beyond even that of the land of Fire who were usually the lead in economical advances.

This of course meant that Kumogakure, the nation's military hub, possessed the most advanced utilities in the entire world. This _was _the nation's Think Tank after all.

Strolling out from a tunnel carved through a small mountain, the first thing I noticed after adapting to the light were the basic transmission towers.

They always drew my eye. Something about the way dull metal contrasts with crisp clear blue sky... or maybe just nostalgia I suppose.

It was strange to think these slightly ugly things were cutting edge for this land.

I felt no buzzing tug from the live-wires overhead as many of my peers did, thus It was unlikely my primary chakra affinity was lightning.

My attention was drawn by repetitive shouting ahead.

"-ere! Cart to West Academy here! Any children for West Aca-" So the man shouted.

That's my ride it would seem.

I walked towards the group, out of the sun and into the shadow of a larger mountain. Though from my angle it looked less like a peak and more like a sheer cliff-face.

For reference, we were on a platform that circled the midriff of a "small" rock at about one-hundred meters of the ground. The vaguely pointed rock itself was two-hundred and fifty meters in height total.

This baby mountain was one "gate mountain" situated on the outskirts of the small mountain range that Kumogakure has made its home. The Kage Tower/Military HQ, residence of the Raikage, was nestled bang in the centre of this geological middle finger to mankind.

Indeed, my new hometown was pretty cool.

And cold.

_Very _cold.

Approaching the shouting man, I got a better look and realise he's not the only adult waiting and greeting. To his side was a smiling smaller woman with what looked like a clipboard addressing a line of children and parents before her one at a time.

She slipped my notice previously due to her lack of blindingly white flak vest that the man wore.

The man flashed me his equally blindingly white teeth with a smile as I came into view and gestured me to the woman while still shouting.

Shouting man, I dub thee Shouting Man.

The smiling woman had slightly darker skin than my own caramel brown but identical soft looking black hair she had tied in a ponytail. Hmm, with my baby-fat face lacking enough definition to set us apart, she could easily pass as my young mother or elder sister.

Our only major difference except age and gender were my amber eyes to her homely brown.

She also had a nice smile, a sight better than my grumpy, pudgy mug.

Smiling woman, I dub thee Smiling Woman.

With SM and SW named adequately, I waited patiently in line behind a mother-daughter pair.

"-Ink I'll do alright mummy?" The daughter asked.

"You'll do fine sweetie. Mummy believes in you." The mother answered.

I felt a bit guilty for listening in like that, but they were hardly quiet, not to mention similar exchanges could be heard from all over the platform.

It was heartwarming.

Then they repeated the exact same lines a few seconds later. Then once more a minute later again… and again… again… again…

The daughter repeatedly asking her mother to reassure her. The mother steadfastly complying without a hint of annoyance and a smile to mask her own nerves.

Such exchanges could be heard all over the platform.

I felt a twinge within me. I was jealous. It felt a little bittersweet.

_No,_ I shake my head clear of any semblance of negativity. _I was jealous, yes, but there was nothing bitter about this._

It was only sweet.

Better. It would not do to have such gloomy thoughts so early. Especially not today.

Today was my first day of school after all.

From there I fell into a sort of trance most people do when waiting in line alone. A state of not ignoring anything, but not quite listening, I merely submerged myself in the atmosphere, letting my legs stop and start on auto-pilot as my mind wandered.

Before I knew it, or rather, when I came to, the mother-daughter pair had finished and walked to the side, presumably for a long hug like many others before them. It was now my turn.

"Hello there little one," Smiling Woman blinked as she looked down, hunching slightly as child-workers oft do, "where are your parents?"

Oh dear.

I shake my head. "Orphan." I say quietly, not because I was especially sad, but because I was naturally quiet.

"Ah." To her credit, Smiling Woman hid her grimace at her faux pass well. "The orphanage groups are ferried directly to the academy though, did you leave early perhaps?" She asked softy, now crouching at eye-level instead of just hunching.

I shake my head again. "I have my parents house." My father's smithy anyway, I'm not sure if mother ever lived there for extended periods. "Legacy." I added when SW looked confused.

She only looked slightly less confused. "... Your guardian?" She queried.

"A drunk cat." I supplied. "Forcibly retired from service." I said like it explained everything.

"Oh." Which it did in this case given SW's look of understanding. "I see." She hardly looked pleased.

Well, I imagine this looks pretty bad from the outside. An orphan son of someone who gave their life for Kumo, now seemingly neglected by their chosen guardian to the extent he's had to walk himself to school on his first day.

Yeah that's pretty bad.

What is it with me and drunks anyway?

"I see." Smiling Woman repeated, this time with a bit more grit. It seems my drunk cat will be getting an earful from someone fairly soon. "Well then, may I ask your name little one?"

I nodded. "Ohashi Yama. Age five." I gave the relevant information I heard others give.

Smiling Woman flipped through the pages on her clipboard, scanning the lists for my name. "Ah, here you are." Her pen made scribbling noises as she did whatever next to my name.

"Very well then." She smiled directly at me, it was still a pretty smile. "Just head on over there okay sweetie?" She pointed at a cart being crowded by some adults. "We'll be leaving for the academy in just a bit okay?"

I nodded wordlessly as she gave me another winning smile.

Moving past the parents milling about, I finally got a clear view of the cart itself. Or _carts _actually.

They were the stereotypical open-air carts, the type you see horses lug around in movies, but strangely these had metal wheels.

I was confused, why would they hav- _oh_.

I blinked. How did I miss that before? They were rather conspicuous.

_Rails._

These _carts_, were actually the carriages of a very basic train.

No. Given the lightweight nature and likeliness to run through public areas, it would be more accurate to class this contraption as a tram-train...

Huh.

We have public transport.

Though I saw no engine or such, there was probably some chakra-lightning equivalent running beneath each "cabin" I assume.

Neat.

I was expecting to wait and ruminate on my new founding for a while longer, but as it turned out I was one of the last in line to register anyway.

Soon enough, "It's time! Children hop on, parents say your goodbyes!" Shouting man shouted. The call sounded slightly morbid to me. _Goodbyes _are something to be feared in the shinobi world.

Perhaps SM was alluding to the parents saying goodbye to their children's innocence? We were off the be trained as tiny murder machines do not forget...

I blink. _Ugh_. I shake my head clear of the thought.

Amidst the calls and whatnot of those surrounding me, the carts quite abruptly jerked into motion, much to the squeals and surprise of their passengers.

Myself included. It'd been a while since something beneath me moved autonomously.

How nostalgic. There were even the _clunk, clunk_ sounds as we passed over the rails… with barely a bump at that. Suspension was surprisingly good.

The rail we were travelling on looked to spiral upwards around the bigger mountain that cast a shadow on us previously. The chill in the air gradually became even more crisp as we rose but was countered by the sudden sunlight.

To the left there was a breathtaking view of flowing valleys and mirror-like lakes, lit brightly by the rising sun peaking over a wall of rock in the distance.

There was also a sheer drop to our dooms should any of us topple out of the carriages.

We were used to it.

Picturesque sights and heights were par of course here in Kumo.

"Nobody lean too far out of the carts now children!" Of course the Shouting Man still had to say that, because children are stupid.

Smiling Woman was nowhere in sight, I had expected her to join us at the back of the carts as SM took to the front, but it seems she has other jobs to do or she will make her own way to the academy.

Probably the second. She wore no flak vest, but my intuition told me she was a shinobi.

I can't wait to learn wall-walking.

Anyway.

There was a general awkwardness amongst the children as the adults disappeared from sight around the curve of the mountain.

Maybe it was due to my good mood, maybe I wanted to dispel some awkwardness, maybe I just wanted to be an adult amongst children, but I decided to go against character and voluntarily talk for once.

Looking at the white haired boy across from me I spoke, "Hey, you." He starts. "You're finally awake."

"Huh?"

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush…"

Or maybe I just got caught up in the mood of being carted away with a bunch of kids and wanted to play.

_Hur hur._

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**AN**: Not as good as the last chapter in my opinion. It lacked the progression I think. Not much happened this time, it's more of a base, or rather _primer_ to everything else that follows really.

Still, it was pretty enjoyable for me to do some world building so early on, but I'll try to keep these moments condensed so as not to bog down the plot.

Hope you enjoyed, leave a review if it pleases.


	3. Chapter 3: Orientation

**AN**: Hello again.

To the reviews! Most seemed positive and I've also received the blessings of _nclose9_ (yay!). The most common complaint(?) seems to be about **chapter length**. I apologise, but that will not change for some time. Not until I have more free time anyway.

So please bare with this for now. I will try and update more frequently, but as stated, this is more of a form of relaxation to me. A break between my other chunky fics and life's toils. Sorry.

Other than that, I just wanna say thanks for reviewing. I read each and every one of them and they make me smile. Cheers.

Now read peasants!

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West Mountain Academy looked more like a gigantic Buddhist mountain-monastery rather than school, and like most things in kumo, I loved it.

I _adored _it. The architecture, the aesthetics, the height, the crisp air, the wide halls, the tall pillars, the small gardens and sandalwood flooring… Yes. This was going to be my second home, I honestly couldn't wait to start dorming here come my third year.

For the first time in quite a while I was looking forward to the future.

But it was just that; the future.

I needed to focus on the here and now.

The here and now being escorted in a line of other children, my soon to-be classmates, to our very first homeroom...

I was on guard.

There was a stench of a test about.

My fellow potatoes have been far too optimistic, too expecting, they are far too happy. It's not good. Excess happiness invites disaster after all. The universe doesn't want us getting too uppity.

And if I've noticed it, then it's a given the adult, veteran mass-murderers have too.

Yes. I foresee a harsh but necessary reality-check in the near future.

Just wish I didn't have to be apart of it.

… No.

No, this will be good for me too I think.

I need this.

I like to think I have a grasp of my situation, but I still need to know for certain. I want to know if all my bravado and bravery were just illusions, If so, then by all means I wish those illusions shattered.

I have no desire to live in ignorance.

I wish to test my body. I wish to see how it will react. I wish to see my innermost expressions…

But not only than that, whatever trial is sprung upon us, it will serve a good opportunity to gauge myself against my peers.

See how they react.

I took a deep breath. Alright then.

_Grit your teeth me. _

Now determined rather than resigned to endure the coming test, it's only a matter of when, where and how… It's very much a case of _hurry up and wait_ I suppose. There's not much I can do at this moment other than stay alert.

Feh.

My eyes wandered. From high ceiling to shadows to the empty corridors we passed, I let my gaze flit.

Just because there was no _action _to take, does not excuse me for being unaware. I could also reason out what the test _might _be, it would be a good use of my time I think...

So I did.

I doubt there are plants or disruptive influences within my fellow potatoes for one. Seeding distrust amongst us so early on serves no purpose, weariness within the ranks is a lesson that should be learnt yes, but not so soon.

There is no merit to that sort of test today.

That means I can probably rely on my fellow potatoes if push comes to shove should the test be combat focused.

In fact, the discretion required to know when to retreat, when to fight, and when to rally together would probably be part of the test. Kumo are all about military unity after all.

So, no internal discord then.

That still leaves a heck of a lot of other stuff, but it's a start.

We continued to walk to the rhythmical sounds of our footsteps. Through no words were said, it would seem some potatoes ahead had made a game of matching steps. Often there would only be a single pair of footsteps before we all petered out into a pitter-patter of foot falls.

I almost smiled at the simple satisfaction the young can get from something so simple.

Almost.

_What other tests then?_

A straightforward surprise attack?

Unlikely.

The results would be unequal and unreliable. Those at the forefront of the attack would react differently than they would at the back. The strike would merely result in shock, it would numb instead of teach.

Not to mention the demerits of singling out those attacked first amongst their peers.

No, a surprise attack is unlikely.

Traps?

Will the doorway be trapped? The corridors? Have I already stepped into a trap?

Well there's not much I can do about that. Just keep my eyes open and head on the swivel, I'm not even sure what I should be looking for in terms of boobie-traps anyway.

A maybe. Not unlikely but not something I can truly prepare for.

So instead I will further the possibilities.

What next?

To the steady sounds of footfall, I pondered.

Killing intent? Will we be subjected to the fabled killing intent? Chakra pressure? Chakra expression?

An interesting prospect, but one I could prepare for even less than traps, so I wasted little time furthering that train of thought.

_Though…_

Something like that _would _be the most equal and rewarding test theorised so far.

I feel I am on the right track.

Walking these copy and paste halls, I arrived at a conclusion within my head.

The test would not be so obvious, not be so straightforward. I don;t think it will be something we see coming.

Thus, inevitably, my mind came to the conclusion I had already suspected right from the start:

_Genjutsu._

Likely. Obvious even.

Genjutsu is the great equaliser of the Shinobi world. Varied in effect and potency, subtle or brutal, Genjutsu stretches as far as one's imagination, and then beyond.

… Or so I'm told.

Mind-trickery bullshit.

Genjutsu can be applied through a variety of ways, single-target with eye-contact or touch and AOE with smell or sound.

Most likely, the Genjutsu would be applied subtly over an area to catch all potatoes unaware.

Well alright then.

_Ha-ha-ha, ha!_ Now that I know it's coming, you'll never catch me unawa- _oh shit, I've already been caught haven't I?_

I then did something I didn't really like doing.

**[**Observe**]**

I used my system.

_There are many reasons I dislike using my system, but I'm too busy to monologue about that right now._

The skill **[**Observe**]** was focused at the back of the potato walking in front of me. I received a _ding _heralding a blue screen of bad news

**[**Skill Failed: Undefined Target**]**

Moving quickly, I surged forward to touch the body not a meter ahead of me… and passed right through.

Suddenly my mind was clear.

And I was cold.

I shivered in the mountain wind, the phantom scent of sandalwood replaced by the crisp high altitude air. My arms instinctively hugged themselves while goosebumps erupted all over me from head to toe.

My balls also shrivelled. The was a lonely caw of a hawk to my side.

Still disoriented, I moved swiftly to the nearest wall for shelter from the wind, only to wince when my shoulder hit sharp rock.

A jagged rock face.

_Goddamn Genjutsu._

My head whipped around, my eyes frantically taking in the view.

I was alone, bereft of coat, and seemingly stranded halfway up a mountain with no monastery or potato in sight.

I took a deep breath.

"Crapbaskets."

The test had begun.

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**AN**: I did say this would be infrequent didn't I?

Well, actually, I've had this chapter (and a few following) mapped out in my head for a while, but deadlines approach and I've had little time to write.

This is just a small burst, basically me indulging in some stress relief.

Still, I hope you enjoyed, leave a review if it pleases.

I'll see y'all next time, wherever that may be.


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